


Like No One Knows

by phipiohsum475



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: (Len quotes Lewis who is a known Asshole), Confessions, Drunk Barry, Gratuitous Karaoke Moment, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Karaoke, M/M, Prison Stereotypes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-04 23:31:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21205661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phipiohsum475/pseuds/phipiohsum475
Summary: Barry draped an arm over Len as he came back to the table. “That was amazing; you’re amazing!” he praised, kissing Len’s cheek. “Although I would pay good money to see you try and seduce Joe West.”





	Like No One Knows

“Eighty-five dollars,” Lisa said as Len and Barry entered the bar, pointing to her wrist where a watch would have been if this had been 1996.

Len glared at Barry, narrowed eyes full of accusation. “We would have been on time,” he said, “If _ someone _hadn't gotten into Caitlin’s special sauce a little early and got distracted on the way here.”

Barry put his hand to the side of his mouth and in a loud stage whisper admitted, “I gave him a blow job on the rooftop overlooking the city. It was romantic as fuck.”

Len growled at the twin cries of disgust from Lisa and Cisco, and at Mick’s all too pleased, “_Do tell_.”

“It's only romantic if you don't fucking tell everyone,” Len sighed with the weight of the world as he maneuvered Barry around the table, forced him into a chair, and sat beside him.

Lisa held out her hand, “Money please!”

Len, having wasted a perfectly good sigh just moments before, rolled his eyes. He pulled out his wallet and counted out four twenties and a five. “Seventeen minutes late was a hell of a lot cheaper when I was fifteen,” he grumbled. 

“You can't expect a grown woman to wait around for a quarter a minute. And honestly, you should be thanking me, your cute little counting time trick wouldn't be nearly as accurate if it weren't for me.” Lisa turned to Cisco, “Lenny had a problem picking me up on time. He'd get distracted with his little friends, his little pickpockets and I would be there waiting all by my lonesome at the ice skating rink. So we struck up a deal; he gave me a quarter for every minute he was late.” Lisa gave a wide smile, “We've since renegotiated the terms.”

Barry leaned into Len, slowly but sloppily tracing his finger down Len’s chest. “Was it worth it?” he purred, less like a sex kitten and more like a slutty co-ed cheetah. 

“So, Barry!” Cisco shouted awkwardly, turning at least six heads at two other tables, “How was work?”

“Boring,” Lisa answered for Barry, derailing Cisco’s attempt at a distraction. “So, Lenny, you were late enough that I went ahead and picked your song for you.” 

“As long as it isn't Smooth Criminal,” Len smirked, “I'll be just fine.” He’d put up a fuss when Lisa first demanded karaoke nights, but he’d since gotten used to it. Barry had a good voice and he got himself all worked up whenever Len sang, which always worked in Len’s favor. But he did have his limits. 

“Promise,” Lisa said, but her eyes were too wide and innocent for Len not to believe she was up to something. 

Len didn’t worry himself about it as he flagged down a server's attention. “Can I get another round for everyone here? Two Gold Rush shots for the lady, a Flaming Doctor for the quiet one, a Manly Temple for the squirrelly one, I'll take a Sazerac and the giggly one here-” Len gestured at Barry, “-just gets a tall glass of grapefruit juice.” He held up his card, “I'll start a tab.”

As the server left, Mick snorted, “Who the hell orders grapefruit juice at a bar?”

Cisco laughed. “Regular alcohol doesn't do anything for Barry, so Caitlin mixed up this solution that's like five hundred proof alcohol. Barry thinks it tastes best when it's mixed with grapefruit juice.”

“By definition,” Len corrected, “There's no such thing as five hundred proof alcohol.”

“Well yeah,” Cisco acquiesced with a sarcastic wave of his hand, “I could use the 23 syllable scientific name for the concoction that Caitlin has created, but that no one would know what the hell I'm talking about. If I say 500 proof alcohol, people get what I'm trying to say.” Cisco paused his rant, then added, “Plus, we've checked with Iris, this is what drunk Barry is like. Has always been like. So it's close enough, you pedantic super villain you.”

“Oh, just stick your tongue out at him and be done with it,” Lisa knocked into Cisco’s shoulder softly enough that not even Jack Skellington could miss her flirting. 

Cisco sputtered. Barry laughed and settled back against Len as an off-key rendition of ‘Devil Went Down to Georgia’ was sung in the background. Barry, Lisa and Cisco dominated the conversation, Len littered in the occasional sarcastic, dry remark, and Mick just leaned back and let the noise wash over him. 

“Nice,” the DJ lied after the song was completed, “Now it’s time for Lisa, who will be singing Joan Jett’s Bad Reputation.” A cheer went up, and Lisa stood in all her glitz and glamour and stalked her way to the stage. “On deck is… Lenny. Be ready to come on up.” 

Lisa stood up on the stage like she was made for it and Cisco stopped in the middle of his conversation to gape worshipfully at her confidence. Barry nudged Len, who looked to Cisco with narrow eyes. Barry smacked him lightly and Len shrugged, a frown still on his face, but with a smile in his eyes. Barry nodded, satisfied, and tipped his flask into the grapefruit juice. 

The glass was half gone by the time Lisa’s song ended to wild applause. “Fantastic, give it up for Lisa, who’s got a kick ass voice on top of those delicious legs!” the DJ leered.

Len opened his mouth to object as he stood to go to the stage, but Cisco cut him off with a loud, “Hey! Respect the woman!”

The DJ laughed, “Dude, it’s not like you’re her boyfriend, save it for someone you could actually get.”

Lisa shrugged with a smile, leaning back into the microphone, “Oh, I wouldn’t say that. He’s getting there.” She winked at Cisco, who dramatically covered his heart with both hands and beamed as though she’d knighted him personally. 

“Can you not?” Len groaned as he took the mic.

The DJ bantered back, “Hey, just cuz you don’t stand a chance with her doesn’t-”

“She’s my fucking sister.”

“Oh. Oh yeah, no, I’ll stop. Uhh-” the DJ paused, turning back to his computer to find the next song. 

Music began to start, softly enough that Len, and apparently Barry, didn’t recognize it at first. Then Barry gasped and giggled just as Len recognized the bass line. Len gave grim look and glared at Lisa, while Barry sat up straight up, with a mile-wide smile and clapped his hands lightly. He looked every inch of a six foot puppy on speed. 

_ White shirt now red, my bloody nose _

_ Sleeping, you're on your tippy toes _

_ Creeping around like no one knows _

_ Think you're so criminal _

Mick snorted. Lisa and Cisco held back their laughter while Barry watched, entranced. Barry had told him before that he was “sex and danger and a beautiful fucking singer.” Karaoke night sex was only second to heist night sex. 

_ I'm that bad type _

_ Make your mama sad type _

_ Make your girlfriend mad type _

_ Might seduce your dad type _

_ I'm the bad guy _

_ Duh. _

As Len continued singing, he couldn’t keep his eyes of Barry. Drunk as he was, Len wasn’t sure if Barry realized how he was running his own hands between his thighs or down his chest, only to stop to snap his fingers on queue. 

Great, now Len was turned on by watching Barry watching him. 

He focused on a spot behind Barry, so that he wouldn’t think Len was ignoring him, but that he didn’t have to watch every stroke of Barry feeling himself up. He made it through the end of the song without an obvious erection and even got some decent applause, the only true markers of karaoke success. 

“Tran, you’re up with... seriously? Ricky Martin’s Livin La Vida Loca?” the DJ said, “There’s a throwback if I’ve ever heard one.”

Barry draped an arm over Len as he came back to the table. “That was amazing; you’re amazing!” he praised, kissing Len’s cheek. “Although I would pay good money to see you try and seduce Joe West.”

Lisa and Cisco laughed along with him, but Mick gave a loud, drunken snort. “Wrong dad, Red.”

Barry didn’t register the quip until Len’s face hardened. It took only a half second for Barry to make the leap from Joe West to Henry Allen to Iron Heights to Leonard Snart. His eyes grew big, but before he could say a word, Lisa cut him off.

“Cisco, I think it’s time for you to buy me another drink.” She grabbed her clutch and rose elegantly despite the several drinks she’d already had.

“Yeah, drinks! More drinks! And maybe pool or darts, um, until it’s safe?” Cisco nearly fell out of his chair in an attempt to escape the thick tension that had settled over the table. 

Mick turned from Len’s furious stare to Barry’s slack-jawed expression. “Was this not something you had already talked about? My bad,” he shrugged in a manner that suggested he did not feel as though this was his bad at all. 

Caitlin’s alcohol might have been a little more effective than Barry’d been expecting, because instead of in any way easing into the conversation, Barry blurted out, “Did you fuck my dad, Len?”

Only after the words came out did Barry realize how loud he’d been. Several of the neighboring tables stared at them, and only when Len glared back did they go back to pretending they hadn’t heard a thing. Of course, they were all still listening, Barry wasn’t an idiot and he could hear the sudden dull murmur of fake, quiet conversation, but at this point, it didn’t matter. 

But Barry didn’t stop there. “Did you seduce him? Beg him to fuck you? Did you fuck him? Is my dad bisexual? Was it just a prison thing? When was this? Which prison stint? You knew you’d escape, why did you have to seduce him? Oh my god, does that make this incest? What does that make-”

Len grabbed Barry’s neck, twirling a few strands of hair from his nape tightly until Barry stopped blabbering. “Will you shut up,” he demanded more than asked. 

Barry obliged, although the thickening of his cock probably had more to do with it than anything else. Despite his current concerns, through the alcohol haze all he could think about was how much he loved how Len bossed him around. 

“I did not fuck Doc Allen. Doc Allen did not fuck me.” 

Oh, right. Barry was in the middle of a fact finding mission. “Mick’s not a liar,” Barry protested.

“Mick’s an asshole with a selective memory.” Len answered, watching Barry’s eyes. 

“So what's the truth?”

“Do you really want to do this right now?”

“Yeah.”

“It was my first stint in the Heights. The hierarchy, the socialization, all my knowledge of that came from Lewis. As you may recall, Lewis was a fucking cockolorum asshat that didn’t have the enough brains to spread on a soup cracker.” 

“May he burn in hell,” Barry flashed his middle finger towards the wood floor, then looked back up to Len. “Continue.”

“The old man was full of sage advice, ‘_You find yourself the biggest, meanest son of a bitch in there. Then you got two choices: beat the shit out of ‘im or you let ‘im at your asshole like some sort of faggot in heat._’ Class act, he was.” Len paused, then admitted, “But I bought it.”

“But my dad-” Barry began.

“Your dad seemed like a decent guy. Took care of anybody, didn’t matter who or what they were, he’d treat ‘em when the prison docs wouldn’t. Kind, or as kind as you can get without getting your ass kicked. So I took my shot. Better him than some sadistic asshole everyone fucking hated, right?”

Barry nodded with a satisfied smile, “My dad is a good guy, isn’t he?” Why didn’t they see that when they arrested him? Why didn’t Joe realize it? He smiled wider; he was glad Len saw what a good guy his dad was. Why were they arguing again?

“Yeah, your dad is good. Should have known he was too good. Refused all of my advances.”

Oh right. Len had slept with- _tried to sleep with_\- _threw himself_ at Barry’s dad. That was why they were arguing. But really, he was kind of impressed that his dad could withstand the onslaught of Len’s charm. “You didn’t really try, did you?” Barry asked.

Len blinked. “What do you mean, I didn’t try?”

“Have you seen you?” Barry waved his hand up and down Len’s form. “Have you met you? You are gorgeous and charming and witty- wait, what am I doing? You tried to _ have sex _ with _ my dad_!” 

“Fifteen years ago! And it didn’t even happen!” Len cringed; he hadn’t meant to raise his voice. 

Barry crossed his arms and huffed. “So, do I know him?”

“Know who?” Len was puzzled.

“Who you let fuck you instead.”

“See, this was Lewis’ problem too.” Len smirked, “Stuck in the box thinking.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Barry spoke with an edge in his voice, his brows furrowed, as he angled away from Len. 

“Just because Lewis thought there were only two choices doesn’t mean he was right. That’s what your dad did for me. Pointed out the gap in that logic. Your dad hadn’t beaten the shit out of anyone and he hadn’t gotten fucked, but people generally left him alone. He found a third route.” Len gave a devious smirk, “I found a fourth.”

“A fourth way?” Barry tilted closer, reaching for his drink. “What’d you do?”

“Oh c’mon Barry, you know this,” Len smiled, running his hand slowly up Barry’s thigh.

Barry shifted on the chair, his legs spreading as he leaned further into Len’s space. “Do I?” His voice lost its edge and the drunk co-ed cheetah returned.

Len let his fingers drift higher, teasing the tight jean fabric as his lips came alongside Barry’s ear. “I gave myself-” he paused for dramatic effect, “-An early _ release_.”

Barry’s voice hitched, then a half second too long later, he slumped back with a loud, playful groan, pushing Len away as he did so. “Oh my god, Len. That was terrible! That was _ the worst _ pun! Did you actually think that would work?”

Len glanced down at Barry’s pants, where his erection was still evident. “It didn’t _ not _work,” he pointed out.

“God, you’re so smug!”

“It’s part of that charm you were talking about earlier.”

“I was clearly drunk.”

“You still kind of are, Scarlet.”

Mick slammed down his glass on the table hard enough to make them both jump. He glared at both of them as he wiped the last of the drink from the top of his lip. “What’s the fucking point of blackmail material if I’m not going to get to spend the night jacking off to the sounds of your hate sex next door?” He stood with a final, “Goddamnnit,” and stalked off. 

Barry looked wide-eyed at Len, “We need to move, don’t we?”

“Yeah, Scarlet, I think we do.”

**Author's Note:**

> In case it's not a song you're familiar with, Len is singing 'Bad Guy' by Billie Eilish.


End file.
